Her thoughts returned to the right track, and she slipped the note into a book that lay on the desk, "One Hundred Years of Solitude."
There was a certain silence, heavy with despondency, as he carelessly lit a cigarette and smoked.
Yao Qing finished her bath, changed into a linen nightdress that fluttered as she walked.
Not finding him in the bedroom, she came out and found him leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed.
He was indeed drunk, only his drunkenness manifested differently from others.
Such a poor tolerance for alcohol.
Yao Qing walked over to him, felt that she couldn't lift him, thought about it, and decided to wake him up.
Yu Yanshen's eyes opened in confusion, but gained clarity when they met Yao Qing's gaze.
"Don't sleep here, you'll get sick, go back to the bedroom,"
Yao Qing said softly.
The man gazed at her intently for a while before finally agreeing.
He took her hand and led her into the bedroom, then suddenly remarked,
